Catch me as I Fall
by Rebel-Aquarius
Summary: He’s never really recovered… Slade will return. He knows it’s inevitable. But how will he be able to love without getting her involved? And what if his worst enemy finds out about his feelings for her…? RobStar.
1. Chapter 1

Lord in Heaven, help me…see, this is what happens when I get writer's block. I vent my energy into writing (dare I say it?) romance. Blegh. The heat must have gotten to my brain. This is a Rob/Star. May continue, may not. So far, this is just a one—shot…

**Catch me as I Fall:**

_"Robin? Robin, please respond! Robin, where are you?"_

_Her voice echoes in a dim world hidden away from the light; she's calling for him—calling for a lost comrade. She's pleading for his return, believing that if he can just hear her, he **will** come back. It's as if she already knows the hidden emotions that he feels whenever he is around her: The swoop in his stomach when she laughs, as though he missed a step walking down the stairs, the aching of his heart when he is forced to deceive and lie around her, the smile that threatens to cross his serious face when she is confused by one of the many customs of Earth. What he wouldn't give to cross over to his communicator and speak to her, soothing her and telling her that all is well…_

_But he can't. Because he's not Robin anymore._

_The girl he loves is longing for a stranger that is balancing on a razor thin line between struggle and falling out existence. At the moment, he is nothing but the sad embodiment of failure, slowly being swallowed by the darkness around him as he slips into a uniform that is not his own, a mask that is simply not him. And there has never been a time before where he has not hated a human being more than at this very moment._

_"I know it seems bad now. But trust me: You'll learn to like it."_

_Slade's tone is smooth and coated with mocking comfort as he circles him like a predator that has finally ensnared its long elusive prey; the newly declared apprentice can feel his enemy sizing him up, evaluating every detail with a critical eye. The boy wants to strike out, to release his inner anger in a single punch sent directly at the mask that haunts both his dreams and simple, everyday thoughts._

_But he can't. There is too much at stake, too many precious lives at risk to think selfishly. Batman always told him that heroes were self—sacrificing people, putting themselves before others. He never quite understood the full weight of those words…not until now. Not until a true burden is placed on his shoulders, and he is forced to make a decision between freedom and the ones that matter the most._

_Is this what he deserves, after so many years of saving the day? Is this his reward?_

_The questions rebound within his empty thoughts as he stands, cold and alone, below a shallow pool of faint light._

_It is what leads him to ask about the duty of a "hero." Is being enslaved against your own will part of what Batman was talking about? Is working for your greatest nightmare to spare your friends one of the noble deeds that he must follow through with to pursue the title of a true hero? …Is it worth it? Being honest, always following the laws of justice, pushing away the personal things in your heart to make way for an person that the public can look up to and think is perfect…is it worth it?_

_In a word: No._

**R-S-R-S**

Starfire perched on the edge of her chair nervously, waiting for Robin to awake. Much of the Earth hours had passed since he had collapsed in bed, quiet and brooding…He had been that way ever since they had left behind Slade's lair to slowly destroy itself. And now…what? What would happen when he should finally awake? Would Robin return to his normal self, or would he retreat to the shadows of his room to think and be alone. Starfire hoped not…when he did that, he was transformed into a different person; not her friend, but someone…

Like Slade.

When he became that way, she felt as if there was nothing she could do to reach out to him and pull him out of the dark; it was mostly because of the way he caused her to feel…so hurt and confused…and shallow. Starfire was not exactly quite as naïve as she often appeared to others, including her friends: When Robin shut her out of his life, she got the sense that he thought she couldn't understand what he was going through. It was, of course, a lie.

Starfire did not have to constantly deal with someone like Slade, but she believed that if Robin would open up and talk to her, she might be able to say something that could possibly heal some of the wounds hidden beneath the surface. And yet—

What did she know? No doubt, it was something that she assumed the Titans asked one another. It was true, she could not comprehend the evil within _human beings…_But that didn't mean she hadn't encountered it before…

_Days upon days that stacked on top of one another, as she underwent multiple, torturous experiments, while alien eyes blinked inquisitively at her, taking mental notes of the changes that racked her body and made her scream in pain alongside her sister._

But she had taken something from that murderous experience, aside from memories that she somehow skillfully hid within her: Starbolts, her weapons of defensive power.

Raven had once described a curious sort of bird to her: Something called a "phoenix"? It could be destroyed many times…and yet it would always rise from the ashes, reborn after death. It was like her; she had traveled to Earth, a princess cast away from her home, where she became a hero known throughout the planet.

And Robin…?

**R-S-R-S**

_He was delirious, lost in a swirling white fog that enveloped him, cradling him in another reality like a mother gently holding her child as she whispered sweet lullabies in their ear. It was something his mother had done for him long ago…he could still remember the words, actually. The silence had brought back many things he hadn't even known about, lost chapters in the story of his life. He was jerked back into the cruel world in which he lived though, when Slade roughly grabbed his head, fingers digging into his skull. And the pain returned in a white—hot surge, cuts and bruises slashed upon both flesh and mind._

_For the first time, as he lay curled there, he began to doubt the fantasies of being rescued. He was afraid of being trapped forever…so very afraid…_

_"I made you my apprentice," The man growled in his ear, venom dripping from every word like poison._

_"All my knowledge, all my power, all for you…"_

_Oh? Why did that feel like it was a lie?_

_"But the only thing you care about, are your worthless, little FRIENDS!"_

_He'd never heard Slade so angry before, never witnessed such an outburst coming from the man; the very effect twisted his usual, bored voice, and it was enough to make him to listen and try to decipher these strange words._

_Slade thought he was doing him a favor…how? By crushing his spirit and attempting to destroy the triumphant "hero" that the boy was throwing everything away for, just to transform into? But…it made sense too…he, in all honesty, loathed the thought of losing his personality in order to protect. Slade was offering another course, a different option; villains often applied passion when it came to their schemes, no matter how pathetic or how brilliant they were on a grand scale. It was a way to avoid the fate of plastic perfection that awaited him, should he continue to strive for the goal that most young teen defenders looked forward to._

_And once they exceeded the expectations and standards of society and they became adults, they often joined the Justice League, where they served until the end of their days. It was the same path that all those like him tread, over and over again…and he didn't want it. When he was younger, his parents inspired him with speeches empowering individuality. The last thing he wanted was to let them down. He always had a choice…_

_Well, here it was, standing right before him and blazing in orange and black colors. Yet why wasn't he practically jumping at the chance?_

_Because it's wrong, and he knows it. It's all wrong._

_Somehow, the beaten apprentice managed to push himself to his feet, despite the stabs of agony that were running through his veins and spreading through his entire body. It was a miracle that he was able to suppress the groans of pain that were about to escape from his mouth. Slade's back to him; if only he had a knife, or some sort of weapon that he could wield…he'd drive it right into the very center of the man's back; he'd would probably smile in a maniacal sort of way that would make Slade proud, even as he lay in his own blood._

_He won't, though. Becoming a murderer would only finalize his imprisonment, even if Slade died. He had to make do with only his fists._

_"If the Titans are so distracting, maybe I should just get rid of them?"_

_Slade held up his hand suggestively, trigger visible to his student's eyes. It might be posed as a sort of "innocent question," but its true meaning is clearer than the sunlight that the apprentice has grown to miss, even after a day or two—or is it a century? The boy can't be sure anymore…_

_"Don't…"_

_He hates lowering himself to the level of pleading with this "human," but he also knows that this is exactly what he is expected to say, in order to rescue innocents…why does this sound so familiar?_

_"I'll do whatever you say…"_

_"Good boy."_

_It's that particular, wretched phrase that makes him want to gag in disgust. When Slade says that, it creates the feeling that the former Boy Wonder is nothing more than a dog, existing to please and obey._

_"And—"_

_A feeling of dread swept into his stomach, as he anticipated the coming words._

_"—From now on, I'd like you to call me **Master**."_

_It was exactly at that moment when a familiar bolt of green light hurtled through the musty air to smash, head—long into Slade, throwing him into the wall._

_"Leave. Him. Alone."_

**R-S-R-S**

Hesitantly, Robin's eyes flickered open, widening with every blink. Starfire could barely contain her joy at seeing him conscious again. It was all she could do, not to captivate him in one of her infamous, bone—crushing hugs.

"Friend Robin, you are awake!"

Her leader winced and touched one of his ears in a joking manner.

"Ow…Star, not so loud…"

"Oh—" The alien girl immediately lowered her voice to a gentle whisper. "—Is this better?"

The Boy Wonder laughed softly, and Starfire felt one of her kind smiles creeping over her face. He was going to be all right…

Meanwhile, Robin was peering curiously around the barely lit hospital wing, masked eyes squinting carefully at the darker corners. His friend noticed this and felt her joy drop a few notches…after this experience, she doubted he would ever fully heal…

"What happened?" He asked warily. It wasn't much of a casual question rather than a firm command. Starfire obliged, filling in the blanks as she explained how she'd carried him home, how he'd barely been awake and had fallen asleep as soon as he had climbed into bed. She continued to chatter, pretending to be oblivious, while she took in his creased brow and the worried expression plastered on his face that revealed he was barely paying attention to the things she said.

"And Slade?"

Starfire was a bit thrown by this, but she quickly recovered.

"We have failed to capture him…again…" She trailed off as a spasm of disappointment passed over Robin's face before he replaced it with his usual somber look.

"Oh…that's all right…I guess I should have known better than to say something dumb like that, huh?" He grinned sardonically, and Starfire's hopes fell. As soon as he was better, Robin would continue to research the madman, never resting, never stopping until he caught him…or until Slade caught _him_ again.

She couldn't let that happen.

Robin yawned widely and muttered:

"I'm still pretty tired…I'm gonna go back to sleep, if that's okay with you…"

Starfire nodded, trying to swallow the lump building in her throat as her leader collapsed once more, lost in the world of dreams. Then, cautiously, she reached out and gently pushed the hair that had fallen in front of his closed eyes. She didn't bother to worry if he were still awake; he was so exhausted…

"Robin…I swear on the moons of Karthor…you will not be hurt by Slade…"

And she meant it, with all of her heart.

**R-S-R-S**

Ah, failure.

The word left a bitter taste in his mouth and a twisted feeling in his stomach as he spoke it. All those months of careful planning, as he overlooked details and created the nanoscopic probes, as he designed the perfect trap—

Only to meet a dead end.

It seemed as if, once again, Robin managed to slip through his fingers, and oh, how it vexed him. After all the pathetic men that he had assassinated, after all the human souls that he had broken in half with one swift stroke, it was a foolish little boy that caused him so much trouble.

That made it all the more humiliating.

How dare that brat defy him? It was a rare honor, especially for a child, to be given the chance to join him in his quest for power, and a personal invitation at that. The boy was so unwise…and it would cost him.

Slade had attempted to give Robin a chance to avoid the impending doom that lay in store for virtue and serve evil's forces, to join the side where he truly belonged. The kick that had shattered his mask had been enough of an answer. It was disappointing, knowing that someone with potential like that would reject such an offer. But life was about choices. And Robin had made his.

_So be it._

**R-S-R-S**

A gentle knock rang on his door, signaling another presence lingering outside of his room. Sighing slightly, Robin crossed over the ocean of newspapers and information to reach the handle, sliding it open to reveal none other than Starfire.

"Hello."

Robin bit his lip, resisting the urge to smile with her as her face beamed like a beacon in a world of night.

"Hello, Star. Did you want something?"

The alien girl giggled nervously.

"Well, friends Beast Boy and Cyborg are wondering what we might have to eat, and whether it is to be the meat, or the soy…They are demanding your answer…and…I am wondering if you might wish to join us for the feast of dinner—"

She faltered though, as Robin's face darkened.

"No, Starfire. No thank you; I'm not hungry."

"But I…" The girl stopped herself, before she could say more.

"But what?" Robin asked, interested in spite of his focus on the Slade case. Starfire merely sighed, and murmured listlessly:

"Oh…nothing, friend Robin. I…I will see you in the morning…"

She drifted off without another word, leaving Robin with his thoughts.

'_**All I wanted to tell her was how much I loved her.'**_

"_**I want you to know that I will always be there for you. I will always be there to take care of you. I promise you that… I will always be your friend."**_

"…_**Only a friend, Peter Parker?"**_

"_**That's all I have to give."**_

_**--Spiderman**_

_Fin._

So…good? Pointless? Please: I want to know what you think. Especially if I should continue or not. I don't have an issue with leaving it as it is, but if there are people who are interested, I can continue…if you really want.

Looking forward to your comments—

Rebel-Aquarius


	2. Chapter 2

Wow. Err…heh, heh…I guess I probably _should_ write romance more often. Well, I've decided to continue this, based upon all the great reviews I got in under one day. 'Tis a new record, indeed…Yeah…I promise, not all of this story will be a bunch of serious talking and flashbacks. I'm guessing that action will intervene here and there (Which is why this story is rated 'T' to be safe) and I have absolutely no doubt that Slade will make an appearance or two. So, here we go!

Chapter Two: Painful Memories

_Time passed. Hours dragged into days, and days into weeks, all blended together in the same category as a measurement of progression…leading straight back to time. It was a never-ending circle, spinning forever in motion; its existence serves no purpose and yet we feel that it is essential to everything. Is it true? Or does it only seem to matter because we have nothing else to hold onto and explain the many mysteries of the world to us?_

_This has been a question that many have asked, though few have answered with a reason that can make sense._

…_But when your mind is distracted and lost in cold dreams of the past, it, of course, makes no difference to you whether the whole planet is paused—caught in the moment—or if all its inhabitants continue to move about you, following their daily schedules. All you know is that you have moved away from Earth itself, and you sit, shivering, on your own frozen world, staring at the warm green and blue hues. You wonder if you can ever return, even though the rocket has left you here on an island, devoid of any life aside from yourself. You wonder if things can ever go back to the way they used to be, when justice was about more than just revenge…and love had no complications barring your way…_

_And you begin to wonder if there really are barriers blocking you, or you're just trying to find excuses from going out on a limb, taking a chance and leaping off the cliff, hoping that someone—somebody out there—will care enough to stop and catch you._

_You wonder if you're worth enough to deserve saving, especially because every time you try to jump, something always makes you hesitate. And that one person is still waiting there, through sun and rain alike—they've always been waiting. Everything's up to you now…_

_But you're too scared._

_What if that single hero has grown tired of standing there with their arms out, looking like a fool to all the others around them? What if they're finally walked away, and when you muster enough courage to jump, you find there is nothing there to prevent you from falling through the concrete and into the pits of Hell._

_And then you say you've grown used to the frigid climate you; you spend time imagining how, maybe, someday, you'll eventually gather enough snow to crawl under, where you can sink into eternal sleep…_

_The odd thing is…it's not as if you're afraid of the possibility of Hell and the torment that awaits within it… The thing is, it's almost as if that one person is your last chance, your redemption, your guardian angel—the net that will stop you from death, even if there are higher forces at work, cutting the ropes, hoping to drag you down._

_It shocks you, that you depend so heavily on one, single being…and it bothers you, to know that there others out there who will notice this dedication, this connection between the two of you._

_And personally: You'd rather go face to face with the Devil himself, rather than let her be used that way._

_Some could say you'd do anything to save her, to take care of her…_

_That's something else that disturbs you._

R-S-R-S

Eventually, Robin started to join them at the table once more, to share meals and to laugh alongside them at jokes, or makes plans for the weekend, even if they would probably be interrupted by some criminal's latest scheme.

Starfire was pleased.

She had been so concerned that, after this torturous experience, Robin might have never left his room again. The alien could not quite understand how someone could lock themselves within one, specific place for so long. Didn't the darkness appear to slowly bear down on him? Didn't the eyes of the pictures on the walls ever appear to be following Robin as he paced, back and forth, back and forth, long into the night?

When her friend had posed as the villainous character of "Red X," Starfire had entered his room, hoping to clear some of the confusion that was clouding her mind. His door had slid open, slicing through the quiet in an eerie manner, like a knife swinging down in an arc to…what? Starfire had shuddered, but moved forward all the same, trying to ignore the goosebumps that prickled up her arms and made the hair on the back of her neck stand straight.

The air in his room was cold, and yet surprisingly musty, and when she inhaled, each gasp of air was coated with dust. It made her sick to her stomach, and she had to resist coughing uncontrollably. But, after she had grown accustomed to the odd atmosphere, she set about examining the contents on a single table, which was laden various types of deadly looking weapons. She would have observed them closer, but every time she took another step, the eyes of the leering figures in the newspapers scattered about the room seemed to narrow—_ever so slightly_—and it was partly the reason that her hands, trembling, knocked over the hologram that revealed everything to her.

He had been so desperate, Starfire reflected miserably, picking at her tofu eggs with her fork.

"…_He did not trust you…and, you did not trust us…" Starfire murmured softly, turning her head away so that her red hair fell over her face like a curtain. She could not look at Robin any longer…too many things had happened, and she didn't want to stay. Yet, she could not help thinking furiously at him: **'I trust you! I LOVE YOU! Why have you done this!'**_

But, perhaps it was because she had not spoken these words, that Robin had so easily fallen into Slade's grasp.

And—and—

"Star!"

Starfire's head jerked up instantly, and her emerald eyes blinked rapidly as she returned to the present. Beast Boy was leaning towards her eagerly, a knife and fork clenched in either of his hands.

"You gonna eat that?"

Starfire could not help it, and giggled happily, before pushing her plate away.

"No, Friend Beast Boy, you may have it!"

The changeling cackled gleefully and began to shovel mounds of tofu eggs into his mouth. Raven, who was perched beside him, nose buried in another thick novel, managed to tear her gaze away from the printed letter to give Beast Boy a look of pitying disgust, like one might examine a cockroach you have just swatted mercilessly with a shoe, and it is lying on its back on the ground, tiny legs waving crazily as it slowly died.

He turned to look at her as well, shoving the remains of the food in her face helpfully.

"Did oo wah shome?"

Raven shook her head and, folding her book beneath her arm, drifted off to her room. Beast Boy spared a moment to glance at her in puzzlement, before he tossed the dirty dish carelessly at the sink (It bounced off one of the gigantic stacks already piled on the counter and, shocking enough, landed neatly beneath the faucet) before punching Cyborg—who was passing by with a large tray of bacon, sausage, and all other things "non—vegetarian"—in the arm, laughing: "Tag! You're it!"

The half—human, half—machine blinked in confusion, before tossing aside his food and hurtling after a snickering Beast Boy, yelling, "Man, you little pest! When I get my hands on you, you are SO dead!"

Beast Boy, wisely, ducked just as Cyborg lunged, and the older teen accidentally went crashing into Robin, who had just been ready to join the breakfast table.

"What the hell was that for?"

"Sorry, man, BB was being a pain, and he declared tag, so I ran after him, and then he ducked, and then I smashed into you, and I'm really sorry—"

But the green transformer was already off and running, shouting over his shoulder at Robin:

"Dude, you are _it_!"

Robin and Cyborg stared at the other boy in confusion, before laughing as well, before playing along with the game. Starfire watched, smiling from ear to ear as the boys raced around and called to each other (Or rather, Robin was calling, whereas Cyborg let loose a continuous stream of swears as Beast Boy constantly evaded him).

To her, it was good, knowing that Robin was back to being himself…and personally, she wouldn't have it any other way.

Suddenly, Robin reached out and tapped her smartly on the arm.

"Your turn, Star!" He managed to say, before speeding off. Starfire, delighted to have the chance to participate in the game, jumped out of her seat and followed her leader and team mate, barely constraining her joy. She barely even noticed that Cyborg and Beast Boy had ceased playing and were now pummeling one another over who got the remote—and she didn't even care. Robin was okay, and for once, the mood in the Tower had lifted…

And then she made the mistake of reaching out and—even though she was gentle—grabbing his arm.

For a moment, everything seemed to freeze; Starfire was still clinging to his arm, but the muscles beneath her fingers had tensed, tightened with fear. The next thing she knew, her own arm was twisted violently, making her cry out in alarm. It felt like it was about to break, it was on fire—

"Oh my God, Starfire, I'm so sorry!"

Robin released her and the alien drew away from him, cradling her injured arm with the other. Hurt and confusion shone in her green irises, as she whimpered: "Why…?"

The Boy Wonder shook his head, as if attempting to empty of it of other thoughts, before he reached out cautiously and, putting both his hands on her shoulders, helped her sink onto the couch.

"I didn't mean to, Star…" He explained in a soothing tone, sitting beside her. "I really didn't…"

"But—_why_?"

With a heavy sigh, Robin shifted away from her, a green gloved hand moving towards his shirt sleeve, which he pushed up slightly…

And the Tameranean gasped in horror.

Tiny, purple bruises—about the size of fingerprints—stood out against his skin, and as Starfire ran a cool palm over them in appalled awe, her friend winced slightly.

"Friend Robin, I apologize most grievously!" The alien moaned unhappily, wringing her hands. "I did not mean to exert so much of my strength into this game, and I—"

"No, Star," Robin whispered, averting his gaze from hers. "These aren't from you…"

Starfire's eyes widened in disgust.

"Robin, I—I—"

"Star, it's fine…I just…need to be alone for awhile…"

And Robin, standing once more, stalked off for his room.

R-S-R-S

Silence heightens your concentration.

There is nothing else near you to turn your thoughts off whatever track they have started down. No noises interrupt your focus as you sit, staring into black and wondering why your life has gone so horribly wrong…what you did to deserve this mental torment that destroys you…_from the inside out…_

Robin's masked eyes closed wearily, arms curling around his knees with his back braced against the wall. For some reason, he was so tired…all he wanted was to fall asleep—fall into a dimension of fantastic dreams and nightmares…and never, ever again wake up. Reality was merely weighing him down; it was as if thick, unbreakable chains had been wrapped around his body and every time he tried to move away, Slade would always be there to drag him back into a helpless prison—a cage that every bird fears.

Though his room provided an adequate thinking area, sometimes Robin got the irresistible urge to break down the walls, to scream just to end the ongoing silence…to lose all control, all self restraint—ever since his parents died, he always had the thirst to prove himself, to make something of himself! He wanted to be someone more than just Richard Grayson, partly the reason that he so willingly accepted the identity of "Robin, 'Boy Wonder.' "

Yet…that had never quenched his burning hunger. Being a hero was exhilarating, fighting crime and such, but it came with too many rules and restricted him so often. Eventually, he came to realize that it no longer gave him the sensation he was looking for; it was no longer a…a…

_"It was a thrill, wasn't it?"_

_It was all Robin could do not to shudder aloud—for that would be giving Slade what he wanted—but all the same, a chill ran up his spine, and he weakened considerably. His "master" must have felt the quiet surrender from the way his apprentice's muscles relaxed beneath his grip, because a moment later the boy felt the fingertips—which had previously been digging into his arm—vanish. Nothing was holding him up anymore, and Robin stumbled forward to catch himself before he hit the ground, though he instantly recovered and spun around, watching Slade warily._

_But the man had no intention of fighting…at least, not for the moment. Turning his back on his apprentice, Slade began constructing some sort of device over at his work table. For a moment, Robin thought that perhaps their discussion was over, but the next minute, Slade began speaking again, and the boy listened in spite of himself._

"_You're going to keep stealing, Robin, and you're going to keep getting that thrill."_

_The former hero's eyes narrowed as he attempted to massage feeling back into his arm, but he did not interrupt. So this was how it was going to be: Slade was going to keep to keep forcing him to thieve until he gave in to the urge—not that he felt one at all! Or…did he?_

_"And sooner, or later, you **will** see things my way."_

_Slade turned, holding some sort of laser in his hands, his eye fixed upon Robin once more. The boy's hateful expression never flickered once as he stared the man down, still clutching his wrist a bit defensively._

_"Who knows?" Slade added casually, advancing on his student, and, before the youth could object or resist in any manner, reached out and took his wrist._

_"I might even become like a father to you."_

_And, with a slightly decisive click, the gun was strapped onto Robin's arm, Slade holding it for a minute longer to examine the effect, before it was released once more. Robin frowned at his newest "tool" in obvious disgust, before looking back at Slade with a odd look on his face—a mixture of anger, but also of regret and sorrow, as if he were recalling a rather miserable memory from long ago…and, in truth, he was…_

_"I already have a father," He muttered coldly. From somewhere above, bats fluttered from the rafters, screeching as they disappeared into the night sky._

Robin stood and began pacing fast and feverishly, holding his head tightly.

"Stop it," He ordered himself, though it barely did any good.

_'How can you stop something within in you…when it's what you **want** to release…'_ hissed a seductive voice within his mind, persuasive and beguiling.

The Boy Wonder gripped his head even more viciously than before, now shaking it from side to side.

"No…I don't want it…Never…"

_'You see? You are evil…or at least insane…'_

"Shut up," he spat from behind gritted teeth. "I am NOT insane."

_'Really? I'd think talking to yourself qualifies.'_

"SHUT UP!"

_'Now, now, Robin…watch that temper of yours. It's already gotten you into trouble once…and it'll do it again.'_

The teen yelled out loud in frustration and pummeled the wall as if venting his anger into another invisible adversary that haunted him. He whirled about as if looking for something else to attack—and caught sight of himself in the mirror.

He was standing, not in his room, but back in Slade's lair, his sinister master behind him. And, for some reason, Robin felt as if he could not turn his eyes away from the scene, no matter how much he struggled. He couldn't yell—like his jaws were glued together…or perhaps he didn't want to yell…

Slade reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder; beneath his touch, Robin's typical, colorful uniform rippled like a foggy image disappearing, now suddenly stained orange and black, as it steadily melted into what he had worn in his role as "apprentice." All about him, the walls were breaking down, the ceiling caving in to make way for the gears that knit together in harmony, his room replaced by the vast, dark space that was where Slade dwelled.

Back under the man's grip…once more—

An evil smile spread on Robin's face.

—And he didn't care.

_From somewhere in the distance, Starfire was calling to him…_

"_Robin! I can help you…let me help you…"_

_**Nobody can help me, Star. Nobody.**_

R-S-R-S

**Present Day:**

Dusk descended on the city with the grace equal to a cat leaping through the air like an acrobat to land, delicately, on all four legs. Lavender and dark rose hues still lingered in the remaining clouds, glowing brilliantly even as dark swallowed the brilliant sunset. And he watched from the top of a skyscraper, surveying the spectacular sight before him.

He was crouching on the outer rim of the building—similar to the stooping form that the Batman took on as he watched over Gotham—a rakish mask placed on his face to conceal his eyes, and long black hair fluttered briefly as a gentle breeze wafted over him.

This man, once known as "Robin," went by another name, one that was much more threatening and truly struck fear into the hearts of criminals, petty and skillful alike. He was no longer the boy that craved trust among himself and his friends (for one thing, he barely had any personal connections anymore to speak of), nor the child that dreaded whether or not he was going insane (_Insanity_, he thought with a wry smile,_ is only something else for the villainous scum to whisper about_). He had changed in many, many ways.

He was Nightwing…

And he didn't need to rely on anyone. Not even…not even _her_…

_Fin._

So, still good? Is it okay that I made Robin into Nightwing? Tell me what you think, please.

Later:

Rebel-Aquarius


	3. Chapter 3

So, like I promised: Thursday is for "Catch Me." And here it is—the final product of chapter three. Oh yeah! Hahaha! So, please read and enjoy, for I have worked my fingers to the bone, typing this up. I hope you like it.

Chapter Three:

_**'Another day, Robin…another day.'**_

_**Slade twisted the handle, eye never leaving her friend, until the very last, possible second. Robin started forward, glaring in hateful frustration as the lair began collapsing around him. She could almost see the immense fury building on the Boy Wonder's face, knowing that after all this torment, the villain was going to go unpunished…the anger was vibrating from his thin form, and she was almost afraid of him for a moment or two…there was so much potency trapped inside his heart—it was like the manmade weapon, the "bomb"? It appeared calm until the moment where it exploded, annihilating all of its surroundings…**_

_**As well as destroying itself.**_

_**Was that the side of Robin that Slade desired to see untapped? To watch her leader lose himself in the furious heat of battle, to allow him to vanquish and eradicate life, until the darkness ripped his soul to shreds and left behind a discarded, empty shell, one that had fulfilled its purpose, and was no longer of any use?**_

_**She couldn't let that happen…she wouldn't be able to go on if it did.**_

_**Gears plunged to the ground, smashing craters upon the floor, and steam rolled into the shadows in thick jets; metal groaned as immense weight hammered down relentlessly on it, causing it to bend nearly in two, then snap in exhausted effort.**_

_**…As if it were portraying what Slade had wanted to do to Robin—no! She had to stop thinking about the ordeal her friend must have gone through and focus on what was occurring now. Swiftly jerking out of her thoughts, she scanned the vast space and located her leader, running from a gear that was about to crush him. Without a moment's hesitation, she dove towards him, arms stretched out to grab him and fly to safety—**_

_"Starfire?"_

_The young girl jolted in surprise as the dream—still vivid in her mind—vanished to be replaced by Robin's face peering at her. She gasped, emerald eyes wide in shock, and wrenched the bedcovers up to her chin automatically._

_"Friend Robin! What are you doing in my—"_

_He pressed a hand over her mouth, and she noticed the absence of the cloth gloves that he usually wore; at the same time, an odd, tingling feel rushed down her spine and ended somewhere in her stomach._

_"Please, don't ask me any questions, Star. Just come with me…I want you to be with me while…"_

_His voice faded away, and a second later, he took his hand off her, smiling nervously. She wasn't quite sure how to respond, so she returned the grin, hers perhaps even more lopsided and awkward than his—within her mind, she cursed herself in Tameranean._

_"Where are we going?" She questioned, once she was done mentally ranting and had begun to pull a light blanket around her shoulders. Robin didn't answer and chose to stare at one of her walls; Starfire noted the tension in his shoulders, and the package that lay at his feet, wrapped in rough brown paper._

_As the two teenagers crept along through the hallways of the Tower, the alien couldn't help staring at her companion's face, with the way his masked eyes darted this way and that, and the crease in his brow…the unkempt, black hair that swept back from his hairline; the locks that looked even more careless than usual, which was a sign of restless nights, of tossing and turning in his bed, desperately longing for sleep when none would come. Sometimes, as none of their room were far from each other, she thought she heard him moaning—begging with an invisible adversary that none of them could rescue him from. How afraid he must be, and yet so unwilling to admit it!_

_Robin stopped and glanced here and there, as though he imagined a noise, or the flicker of a shadow across the wall, but as Starfire watched and waited for him in silence, a thought drifted through her mind, one whose truth startled her: He looked like a ghost. His skin was rather violently pale, and it contrasted against the night that surrounded both of them—his cheeks shining like an eerie beacon, while_ _his hands trembled as he clutched the package to him._

_What nightmares haunted him in the dead of the evening?_

_"R—"_

_"Shush. We're almost outside…"_

_"Outside?"_

_There was no answer to her question, for the Boy Wonder had already slunk forward, slipping in and out of her vision, and it was all she could do to keep up with him._

_R-S-R-S_

_And so they stood, side by side, while the fire crackled and burned, orange and yellow fingers leaping at the star—studded sky eagerly._

_They were so close together—much too near to be called teammates or friends…so what were they, Starfire wondered, as the blaze fed on itself, rising and advancing to the heavens._

_Are we in love?_

_What was the word… 'unrequited'? Raven had once read aloud a sad, dramatic tale about a young woman who'd been so deeply, passionately in love with a man…but he'd never known, and in the end, she'd killed herself, writing a letter that told him everything. The words in the story had depicted the sinking, awful emotion of rejection so powerfully, that Starfire could undeniably relate to the protagonist. Did Robin love her? If this was so, she had to commend him on his remarkable lack of hiding feelings, much like Raven herself did. And…what did she know of 'love' anyway? Maybe she was misguided—swayed by marvelous fantasies of what it meant to care for somebody…in the end, this could just be a false sensation she had whenever she was about him, her mind manipulating her into thinking this way so that her heart would not have to ache with the knowing of eternally being alone…_

_Then why am I here, standing with him?_

_The bonfire grew higher, wood snapping in half, and she drove her troubling thoughts away as she and Robin fixed their gazes on the uniform that was being devoured by the greedy inferno, the orange and black cloth fading steadily as a wall of fire overtook it._

_Starfire didn't know of all the customs of Earth, but the symbolism of this single event was much too apparent to be missed, even by an alien like her. He was doing his best to destroy memories he hadn't wanted in the first place…_

R-S-R-S

"Hey, Grayson!"

There was an insistent hammering on the door, as if whoever was outside was putting all their will forward into breaking it down. The room's occupant groaned wearily, and ran his fingers through his mussed hair, blinking stupidly.

"Come on! Wake up—I know you're in there, and I'm not going away until you open the damn door! Now let's go!"

Dick Grayson gave a muffled moan, touching his head lightly only to wince in pain. Oh jeez…not another hangover…they were the worst…

Somehow, he rolled out of bed and dragged himself over the floor exhaustedly—he winced as a few bottles beside the table clinked together—before wrenching at the handle and coming face to face with his landlord, Mr. Phillips.

"Hello David," The young man said as nonchalantly as was possible, despite the throbbing ache in his brain. God, did it hurt…Mr. Phillips, however, cast a critical eye over his customer, a glint of suspicion flicking in the dark irises.

"Where's my money?" He asked calmly, something that Dick really had to commend him on.

"Oh…yes, that…"

Grayson gave a half chuckle and brushed his black mane of hair back again. Nightwing or not, he desperately needed a haircut; it was one of things he missed from his days as Robin—the short, simple spikes he never had to bother with.

_That's the only thing you miss?_ a voice questioned.

"Look, David…it's extremely early in the morning, not to mention that I'm hung over—"

Phillips made a disapproving noise with his tongue as he checked his watch.

"I told you about that, Dick…the wife doesn't like to see a kid like you getting drunk—"

_Yes, yes: you told me this about a hundred thousand times…and I don't ever remember asking Mrs. Phillips to stick her nose into what is my personal business._

"—She hates to see youth corrupted by the effects of alcohol. No offense," He added apologetically. Dick shrugged.

"None taken."

David paused and seemed to be evaluating the younger man, and Grayson felt a spasm of panic.

_What? What! Am I still wearing my mask? Did I leave my uniform out on a chair?_

"Hey, man…what exactly do you get up in the evenings?"

Nightwing blinked, and then tried to recollect his bearings, while attempting a casual chuckle.

"Oh, not much. Work is…" He searched for a good way to describe it. "Work is murder."

_Not a bad way of putting it._

"I come home later on in the day, and I'm exhausted. I…I pretty much hate my job, but it's the only one I've got…I write letters to my family, then crack open a couple of drinks, and before I know it, I'm out like a light; however, I do go out at night at times."

_Try, "almost all the time."_

"Do you party?"

Dick Grayson laughed again.

"Why so curious, Dave?"

"Because…it's one in the afternoon."

The man once known as 'Robin' felt his jaw drop in amazement.

"You're kidding."

"Nope. That's why I was wondering what you do at night: Men like you seem to get your kicks by going wild and crazy, and having a huge party…see, you sleep in a lot. And sometimes you don't even come out of your rooms on the weekends—"

In the background, Richard heard a soft beeping sound that alerted him of problems in the city.

"Oh, shoot. Dave, that's my cell phone, and it's probably my boss. I've really got to go—but we can continue this conversation later!"

Phillips shook his head in exasperation and waved a hand to shoo him off.

"No, just go. I'm sure it's important…"

R-S-R-S

Ugh: Drug dealer scumbags, bringing in a shipload of new junk to sell to poor addicts.

Huzzah.

Nightwing had positioned himself below the dock that was bringing the new products in, watching as different pairs of feet stomped over the wooden planks, and casting shadows over his somber features. Masculine voices drifted to his readied ears, and there was a loud scraping noise that told him the crates and their illegal contents had been removed from the ship's cargo.

"Oy!" Someone shouted out loud, and the young man could have laughed out loud at the amateur's ways. "Be careful with that—if the boss finds out you damaged any of his stuff, there'll be hell to pay!"

Well, he was right about one thing—there would be hell…hell for bringing this kind of crap into his city and thinking they could get away with it.

Nightwing gave a tight smirk and made his way in a spider-like fashion along the pier, growing closer to the men that were bickering like children. From their behavior, he could already tell that this job was going to be only too easy; which was fine for him, since all he really wanted to do these days was go home and crash after so much fighting…on the other hand, though, he was starting to get bored with petty villainy and was on the verge of praying for challenge.

Almost. That was the key word.

The vigilante buried these thoughts and focused on the job at hand.

When he reached the end of the dock, Nightwing swiftly removed a grappling hook and hurled it with all his might at the ship; the steel claws gripped the side of the boat, burying their points into the metal. The man gave a brief tug on the rope to test if it would hold or not, and then jumped.

Like the first hint of dusk, casting itself across the world, Nightwing glided up the side of 'The Seabird' (it was one of the minor ships at port, used only to deliver a small amount of supplies…or a way to transport something discreetly, the man added) and took up his new perch on the deck, his relentless gaze fixated on his targets.

The dealers below had almost completed their task of dragging and stacking boxes near the front of the wharf; one of the males—he appeared to be in charge—beckoned to a delivery truck, and Nightwing heard an engine come to life.

It was now or never.

He took a running start…and leapt over the edge of the boat like a track runner might over a hurdle; he flew through the air, one leg poised in a flying side kick…and fell, slamming his heel into the back of one criminal's spine.

"What the—?"

His companions had no time to respond; as his first victim prepared to slump to the ground, Nightwing grabbed him under the arms and flung the limp form at the thugs. The body—thank God he'd gotten a fat one—crashed into and pinned two enemies flat, but the rest kept coming forward. 'Robin' smiled like a Cheshire Cat and pulled out his bo-staff; quick cracks on the skull knocked out another one.

The leader and his cronies charged him, fists at the ready: But the leader was the only one with a weapon (a lead pipe).

Nightwing assessed them in the blink of an eye, by size, speed and strength, then moved to the goon on the left. He drove the staff into the hoodlum's jawbone, and turned gracefully, plunging the other end through the right hand man's (A/N: Lame pun. Leave me alone) leg.

Unfortunately, he wasn't as fast with the guy in charge.

_Whack!_

The pipe collided with his skull, causing colors and patterns to swirl and melt in his vision.

_Stupid…should have seen that coming…_

"Heh, heh, heh," the man laughed lowly, watching as Nightwing spun in confusion. "Not so tough now, are you? …Robin."

The hero stiffened, and no matter how dazed he had been before, he now came slamming back to earth like a meteor. How—?

"Whatsammater? Can't remember your own name?"

Where did this lowlife find out about his old identity?

"My name…" Robin hissed, delivering a fatal blow to the slimeball's neck, "IS NIGHTWING!"

The boss crumpled at Grayson's feet, and the young male watched him in contempt.

_So this is what you've transcended to: From an obsessive, messed up kid, to a filthy murderer._

"I'm not proud of it," he whispered, as he strode over to the crates (whoever had been driving the truck had vanished, most likely running off in fear).

His better side remained unconvinced.

Nightwing slit the ties that strapped the crate shut and peeked inside, frowning in puzzlement.

"Huh?"

Extinguishers (they looked like they spouted out gas, though) and containers of a curious looking dust were nestled in the packaging.

He'd have investigated further, but police sirens were already wailing to him in the distance; no doubt some idiot dock-worker had seen him trashing the drug dealers and had called the cops.

_Lousy pedestrians_.

He snatched up the nearest vial of dust, retrieved his grappling hook…and then he had swung off into the night, the darkness blissfully enveloping him.

R-S-R-S

"Well, well, well…what have we here?"

The villain already knew who it was: After all, he'd been the one to pay that mindless fool to address his old associate by his former name.

Far beneath the soil, the mastermind lurked, surveying the scenes from above on his plasma screens. He had to admit—he was deeply amused. It'd been so long since he'd glimpsed…uh, "Nightwing's" fighting style…and now it was ironic, that the boy choose to brawl this way.

_He's turned into a killer…how perfect._

And he had taken the vial as well. If that wasn't enough of a hint, the evil plotter didn't know what would lure the young man back to him…to his impending doom.

The best thing to do now was merely gain something that would ensure Robin's return.

And he knew just where to find it.

R-S-R-S

_It has been a very long time._

When he had departed, his hair had become matted, and the spikes had fallen to swoop over his forehead like black commas, hiding his eyes even more than usual. His good-byes had been brief and as empty of feeling as Raven's monotone voice…she had cried the night that he left them all behind for good.

Recently, Roy (A/N: AKA, Speedy. He changed his name to Arsenal later on) had brought them a picture—to be more accurate, a newspaper clipping about some heinous crime, and Nightwing's even more heinous solution to put an end to it. She recalled the sick feeling that had gathered and settled in her stomach like a bad meal. She had cried again the same evening that she'd seen the headline.

…Surely…surely, after so many years, her friend would have become lonely and missed her, along with Raven, Victor, and Gar (A/N: Victor—Cyborg—, and Garfield/Gar—Beast Boy).

This idea had spawned from her hope, and had given her the bravery and daring to do what she was about to attempt now.

_**-----------------------**_

_Bring!_

There was a pause on the other line, as the phone waited to be picked up. Then, once more—

_Bring!_

The young woman paced nervously about the main room of a familiar Tower, though the interior had changed drastically as its inhabitants grew older with the passing years…she had changed too, learning to speak English more fluidly; her uniform had been molded from the original skirt and tank top to a much more sophisticated fashion of a metallic purple skort that barely extended past the very top of her thigh and a tighter shirt than before, one that exposed a bit more skin. It was complete with the same high boots as before, and the metal armbands that wrapped around her muscles. A band around her forehead had been added and her flaming crimson hair had grown longer as well.

She had changed in many ways, and in more than appearance. She was no longer the teenage girl that he once knew…

_Bri_—"Hello, Richard Grayson speaking. Who is this?

"Rob—Richard?"

A splutter of surprise came from the other end of the line, something that boosted Starfire's confidence a bit more. It had been so long since they had talked, she was afraid that he may have forgotten her. Little did she know that the last thing he would ever do is forget about her.

"Starfire? Is that really you? Or…do you go by a different name now?"

"Yes! This is Starfire!" she cried in utmost delight, "although, Raven and Arsenal have suggested that we go by our actual names…I am referred to as Koriand'r now, or—"

" 'Kory Anders,' " Robin grumbled thoughtfully. "Yeah…Roy told me all about it when he contacted me awhile ago…"

Starfire beamed happily at no one in particular (The rest of the Titans were up in their rooms, all concerned with their own personal issues).

"Yes. Roy showed us a picture of your…your workings in the new city you are inhabiting. You are called, uh…Nightwing?" So he had followed the path of the Robin that she had met in her trip to the future.

"Hm—mmm."

He sounded distracted. Starfire, thinking fast, quickly blurted out:

"Many things have changed since you left! Victor—"

"Star—"

"—Yes," Starfire said hurriedly, trying to breeze over his words. "He has met a young woman named Sara Sim who is a computer specialist. They are dating currently…and, um, Garfield—"

"Kory—?"

"—Of course, he has been quite busy. Raven has been visiting Azarath constantly, which leads us to think there might be a conflict back in her home—"

"Starfire."

The firm note in his tone made her voice fade off into nothing, as she listened attentively, not daring to cut him off.

"Why did you call? I know it's not to keep me 'updated' on what's going on with the Titans. Is something the matter?"

Starfire bit her lip hard, not sure how to put her thoughts into words. It had seemed so much easier when she had been practicing her speech in her bedroom. The Robin she had envisioned was the one that had gone all those years ago. This new person—whoever he was—was so very different from who she once was acquainted with. She tried to put forth her argument gently.

"I—well—it has been a few years since you have left us. There…there has been no sign of Slade is all this time…I…I was wondering whether you would wish to come back—"

"No."

"But, please Robin!" She begged helplessly, attempting to keep him on the phone. "Do not hang up! Please, just listen to what I have to say—"

"I made up my mind a long time ago, Star. I have no intention of returning to Jump. There's too many things that have happened to me there, and I don't want to have to deal with it anymore."

"Then you are being selfish!" She yelled back hotly, a lump rising in her throat. "You are afraid, Robin! The Titans truly need you—"

"Do they really need me?" He asked quietly. "Or is it just you?"

Starfire felt as though she had been slapped.

"Of course I wish for you to come back, but I am not the only one—"

"You're the one being selfish, Star!" Robin suddenly exploded, words pouring out from him in a torrent, and the alien could hear him storming about wherever he was living now. "You're demanding that I come back, but I can't deal with the memories and the pressure that I face whenever I enter that place! Not to mention that if I do, I'll still always be labeled as 'Robin, Batman's kid,' instead of who I am now! I'll just always be a kid there… I need to make something new for myself. Now goodbye!"

He was about to hang up when Starfire whispered, using her last effort:

"I do want you to return here…because I…I hoped that…maybe—there was still a chance for us to be together once more—"

But her words did not have the effect she had desired. Instead, Robin only became more enraged.

"Stop it, Starfire, or Kory Anders, or whatever the hell your name is! I don't care about that! But if you think we EVER had something, you are wrong! We were never together, and we never will be! Nothing ever existed between us, so just stop PRETENDING!"

The receiving end was slammed down with a loud crack, and Starfire threw the phone down as well, burning tears of fury and shame coursing down her cheeks.

R-S-R-S

Richard sat back at his kitchen table, heart and mind heavy with the words he had just uttered.

"Oh, Star…"

If only she knew that all he was saying was a giant lie. But he had to protect her…even if it meant driving her away from him forever… He wouldn't let her get hurt…

Mr. Grayson shook his shaggy head and tried to forget their conversation; he turned his attention to the vial of discolored dust in front of him, rolling it back and forth between his fingers—

_Clink._

The container had hit his newest bottle of alcohol, and the liquor gleamed temptingly in the faint light of the room. Richard stared at it, contemplating, and his brain turned back to Kory…what she would say or think if she found out about his little problem…

He pushed the booze away and, with a weary groan, laid his head in his hands. It seemed that he was never thirsty when he thought about Starfire…

_My Starfire, my gorgeous alien…_

R-S-R-S

It was late at night, and the inhabitants of Titans Tower were all fast asleep, aside from Raven Roth, who was still deeply alert, waiting for someone in Azarath to respond to the question she had recently sent through her mind. A gnawing presence grew at the corner of her mind like a tumor, but she ignored it. Little did she know how much it would cost her and the rest of the team…

In the next room, Garfield Logan—or 'Changeling,' which he had modified after 'Beast Boy' had grown old—was snoring loudly, much to the annoyance of Victor Stone, who was slumbering (or at least trying to) across the hall. Other rooms had been cleared out, waiting to be occupied by new members of the Titans who would soon come to join.

Only Starfire—Koriand'r, Tameran's princess—remained wide awake, tears still running down her face in streams to flood the pillow where she rested her head. The window to her room was flung wide open, allowing beams of moonlight to streak through and onto the floor, dramatically illuminating part of her pale, sad expression like a spotlight. Near the foot of her bed was a small bag that she had packed (rather, thrown a few belongings into). She didn't care what it took—she would make Robin listen! He had to come back!

**_But he's already so gone…_**

_"Promise me, something Starfire…"_

_The girl's eyes widened as he squeezed her hand tightly and turned to face her; he was looking directly at her, and suddenly she felt as if her thoughts were visibly floating out from her scalp, and that any 'secrets' in her were instantly revealed to all. They'd never willingly been this close to one another…_

_"Yes, Robin?" She said quietly. It seemed to her that, should she speak too loud, she would shatter the fragile barrier that closed the rest of the world off from this moment…that if she said anything than what was necessary, this spell that held them together right here, right now, would be broken…and she couldn't bear it._

_"Promise me, Star…that you will be there forever. It's unfair of me, to ask you—I know that…" He sounded so desperate, so pleading; in the glint of the firelight, she could see the tears that were starting to fall._

_"I know it's unfair to be leaning on you all the time, but I need you…or I'll slip and fall, and I'll never stop. Please, Starfire. I never want you to change: You're so…"_

_The young woman reached out her free hand and put it on his cheek; the boy started beneath her touch, before relaxing. His own hand came up to cup the outside of her palm, and the next thing she knew, she was caught up in his careful embrace._

_"You're so perfect…"_

_Her own cheeks were wet with tears, and she buried her head in his shoulder._

_"You're my angel, Starfire…my savior. Promise me…"_

_She nodded and, to both their surprises, brushed her lips against his cheek._

_"I promise."_

**_I don't know him anymore…_**

She never saw the dark figure creeping through the window…

_Fin._

Cliffy! My signature trademark—ha! (Don't hurt me.) So, I want to know whether this was as good as the other chapters or not. And for those of you that are currently reading "Immortality," I will see you tomorrow. (By the way: Only two more chapters left to go on this story!)

Catch ya later:

Rebel


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